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Forgetting Page 6


  As her fingers gently grazed my scalp in a loving caress, she began to speak with equal affection. “Stella, helping someone is different than treating them. He is correct. You are not supposed to treat family and friends. As a physician, it is the most difficult thing for me to do when it comes to you and Raina. I want the very best, and even for all of the knowledge and resources I possess and have access to, my hands are tied when it comes to God’s will. I cannot force your memory to come back any more than I can cause the cancer to leave Raina’s body. I must stand by and hope that He is on my side, and the side of those who are in charge of your treatment. As for help, though, I can do that. So can Julian. Helping someone is picking up where medicine leaves off. It is where healing takes place, as well as the hurt. Your struggle is not just in your brain, but in your mind. They are two different things, and folks often forget that. The more people you have to help you through this, the better equipped you will be to cope with these changes, whatever they may be.”

  Although it was confusing, I knew what she meant. I had been so reluctant to be social, to allow anyone in. He was just one person. One person who happened to know me better than I knew myself. I pushed past the turmoil and forced myself for once to believe something good could actually come of this.

  ~ Early Bird ~

  Sleep did not come easily. For several hours, I tossed and turned with images of Julian flashing through my mind. I had crushes on boys growing up, but never dated anyone. I was too busy with the swim team and volunteering at the hospital to bother with investing in fleeting relationships. The fact my father was an Elder in the church didn’t make it any easier. My friends all had boyfriends, but I was last for everything. I was the last to start my period, to get breasts, and to get my first kiss, which was terrible. I was so disappointed by the experience, that I had no interest in trying it again just for the sake of knowing something different. But I would kiss Julian. His lips were full and soft in appearance. I imagined he tasted like the lemon tart from the market, sweet but not overbearing. I struggled to recall the details of his face. The shadow of dark growth across his chin, and how his eyes looked almost black unless you stood closely and could see they were a stunning shade of evergreen. I was falling fast, and like with all of my other emotions, I had no idea how I would maintain control.

  It seemed as though sharing them with Julian might be helpful, although the thought of not being well received was a hindrance. I really did not need to add rejection to my list of issues, so I buried the feelings deep and vowed to hide them as best I could. It was long before sunrise when I finally rolled out of bed and pulled on my sneakers and a light jacket. After kissing Zoey on the head, I crept out of the house and began the familiar walk into town. The smell of dew on the grass was strong in the morning air, and small animals scurried into the field as I approached. It did not take long to reach the edge of town and pass the light post that I rested on just twenty-four hours earlier. I navigated easily to the bakery and sat on the steps, arriving before Julian or any of the other workers. Only about five minutes went by before I became restless and started to take the chairs off of the tables and arrange them all around. An old wooden broom was perched in the corner, though the steps had clearly been swept the night before.

  As I was opening up the patio umbrellas over the tables, Julian announced his arrival from a distance, presumably not to startle me.

  “Wow, I wasn’t expecting you so early. Have you been here a while?” he asked.

  Scratching my head, I sheepishly nodded. “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep so I decided to come over. I hope you don’t mind. I can go home. I don’t want to get in your way.”

  Julian smiled and walked up the steps with me behind him, then slid the key into the door and pulled it to twist the lock.

  “Actually, I am really glad you are here. The manager is sick and sent me a text last night saying she couldn’t come in. It was just going to be Terry and I, which would have been a rough start to an already crappy day.”

  I followed him into the small shop, and my eyes scrutinized the display cases up close as he turned on the lights.

  “Well, I don’t know how helpful I will be, but I will try my best. Just tell me what to do, and hopefully I can make it better.”

  Julian walked into the kitchen and beckoned me to come with him. He lifted an apron from a hook and tossed it to me, before pulling pans and mixing bowls from shelves all around.

  “We need to start the turnovers and doughnuts. Most people do not buy bread until later in the morning, and Terry will be here soon so he can start that. I am going to have you peel some apples, and I will roll out the dough. Does that sound okay?”

  It seemed simple enough. For the next hour, I peeled nearly twenty pounds of apples and cut them into chunks, simmering them in a sugary concoction of cinnamon and syrup. Julian baked the turnovers without the apple mix, and piped it into the dough pockets after they came out of the oven and cooled slightly. He explained they stayed flakier that way, and let me try a few times to fill them. Unfortunately, I squeezed too hard and made a mess all over the counter. I learned how to use the mixer and managed to roll out and press the doughnuts, frying and flipping them to perfection. Some were glazed and sprinkled, others cream filled and dusted with powdered sugar. I couldn’t believe that Julian was able to do all this at one time, but he had a routine, and I did my best not to disrupt the system. Terry showed up, and after a hasty introduction, had multiple loaves of delicious-smelling bread baking in the oven in no time.

  The guys joked about a bonfire that Terry had attended the evening before. He insisted it was over twenty feet tall and just as wide, taking pride in solely igniting the inferno. I asked if there were marshmallow s’mores, but he said no.

  I shook my head and went back to dusting doughnuts mumbling to myself, “What good is a fire with no marshmallows?”

  Both of the men laughed as we got the bakery ready for business, with a few more employees straggling in throughout the morning. Julian did not seem like a very strict boss, but everyone worked very hard once they clocked in. The place was bustling with activity, and I spent my time restocking the displays and bussing the tables on the patio. The activity was somewhat tiring, but a welcome respite from hours at home alone. No one seemed to mind the bandanna covering my head, or gave me strange looks. For the first time since my arrival in North Carolina, I actually felt normal. The joy surged through my heart at the ease of interacting with others. I smiled, and so did they. Occasionally, I would turn to catch Julian watching me, but with contentment. The day passed too quickly, and before I knew it, Julian’s shift was over and he was free for the afternoon. He had some shopping to do for the bakery, and asked if I wanted to join him.

  I did not hesitate to jump into his truck and speed off into the city. Julian purchased the bulk of his supplies from a food warehouse in Charlotte. As we pushed the mammoth cart around and loaded it with cooking oils and flour, he began to ask how I felt about the day and what I liked best. I started to ramble on about several things before realizing it might be his way of assessing me. I assumed it was difficult to refrain from what you do naturally, but I didn’t like feeling as though the experience was a test. Since he sensed my withdrawal, I told him exactly how I felt.

  In the middle of the coffee aisle, he stopped the cart and exhaled deeply. “Stella, I told you that you were not my patient. I am not treating you. I just wanted to know if you enjoyed yourself. That is all.”

  I blushed with embarrassment and turned away. “I’m sorry.”

  “Stella, stop apologizing for how you feel. I want to know how you feel, as a friend. You should express your feelings, not hide them.”

  I laughed and traced my finger along the steel edge of the shopping cart. “Are you sure you are not trying to be a doctor right now?”

  Julian’s brows furrowed. “I will always be a doctor. It is who I am. I ask questions. But I am not your doctor.”

  I knew this could
go back and forth infinitely. Taking the lead and answering the way he was requesting, I listed off every highlight of my day, which was pretty much every moment. Even peeling the chewed bubblegum from under the table ledges was not bothersome. We began to walk again, and finished pulling the necessary items. After loading the truck, I felt myself begin to grow tired. As much as I tried to keep myself awake, I felt my head bob back and forth multiple times as I drifted in and out of sleep. When I came to, I was tucked into my bed and night had fallen. The light was still on and my parents were speaking quietly in the kitchen.

  I padded down the hall and into the dimly-lit room. Dinner had already been served, as was evidenced by the faint aroma of roasted pork and the aluminum foil-covered plate on the counter.

  “What time is it?” I asked sleepily.

  Laughing in step, my mother answered. “It’s nearly ten o’clock at night. You have been out for a few hours. Julian carried you upstairs and tucked you in. I heard you had a big day.”

  Feeling famished, I tore the foil off and brought the lukewarm plate to the table. My mother scoffed and ripped it away to pop into the microwave.

  “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep. I went to the bakery early, and Julian needed my help setting up. I learned how to make doughnuts and turnovers, but I am not very good. I can do the custard though . . .” I trailed off on the exciting details of my morning.

  Both of my parents smiled at my progress and willingness to go where the day took me. They inquired as to whether I intended on going back again. I hadn’t thought about it, much less had a chance to ask Julian. I shrugged my shoulders and went about devouring my supper.

  “If you want, you can come with me to meet Raina tomorrow. She’s been waiting patiently to see you,” my mother said enthusiastically.

  Although I much prefer the busy activity of the bakery, the allure of meeting my mother’s best friend was tempting. Knowing how ill she was, I knew it was in my best interest to take her up on the offer.

  “I have heard so much about her, it would be nice to actually meet her. Well, you know what I mean.”

  My mother smiled and clapped her hands lightly. “Oh, honey. This will make her day, I just know it.”

  After finishing my supper, I crawled back into bed and succumbed to the sleep my body craved. I did not overthink the upcoming day’s events. After a day of hard work and mental stimulation, rest came easily. Several hours later, the sun was streaming into my bedroom brightly when my mother came to wake me. She spoke quietly, and brushed her fingers gently across my brow.

  I smiled at her sweet face and sat up slowly. “Is it time for us to go?” I asked groggily.

  “You have a little while, Stella. I made you breakfast, so you might want to shower and eat before we head out. I have quite a busy day, and do not typically get to stop before lunch.”

  I shifted slowly, turning my legs onto the edge of the bed and rubbed them to encourage circulation. They cramped slightly from the unusual activity, but loosened up after walking for a bit and running warm water over my body. On my way downstairs, I could smell the fried bacon and fluffy pancakes that were sitting on the table. My father had gone for the day, leaving me a banquet to sate my appetite. Like always, Julian was at the forefront of my mind. Knowing I would be meeting Raina compounded the questions I had swimming in my mind. What would she say to me? How did she feel about my return? My mother said she would be excited for my visit, but what kind of relationship did I have with her before I left town?

  It was easier to just let the day unfold. Questions often answered themselves if I was quiet and listened. It was another beautiful day as we traveled to a secluded home on the water. It was tucked away down a long gravel road on a private cove of the lake, and tall trees shaded the property with privacy. What once appeared to be a trellis of grapes in the front, was now overgrown with weeds, and so was the rest of the yard. A hasty job of cutting the grass to keep it manageable was a testament to the strain on this home. A few cars were parked on the lawn next to the garage, one with a magnetic advertisement for a health care company on the side.

  My mother began to explain who was already with Raina while we headed toward the back of the house. “She has twenty-four-hour care with nurse’s aids. We know it’s more comfortable here, and thankfully the bakery and vineyard bring in enough income to keep her home.”

  “Vineyard?” I immediately asked.

  Nodding back toward the trellis, my mother’s face tightened. “Yes, the family also operates a very successful winery a few miles from here. I am surprised Julian didn’t say anything, since they sell the wine at the bakery.”

  Feeling confused, I wondered why it wasn’t brought up before, and why Julian hadn’t told me.

  Sensing the thoughts in my mind, she continued to speak and answer my questions. “Perhaps he was busy, dear. Or maybe it’s the fact that he is trying to find a buyer. Once Raina passes, Julian will return to New York. I know he’s getting anxious, but he won’t leave her before then. He doesn’t have a family of his own, so there is nothing keeping him here, and it’s a lot for one person to handle alone.”

  If the sudden heart break from being made aware of Julian’s impending departure wasn’t enough to wreck me, the moment I first laid eyes on Raina Moreau was enough to challenge all of the strength I thought I possessed. We entered through the back patio glass door and walked into the living room. A hospital bed was against the wall, facing out onto the lake for her to watch the day go by. I smiled to hide the fear gripping my soul. Her skin was pale and sunken around her dark-shadowed eyes. Thin, fragile arms rested across the blanket in her lap, with her tiny frame propped up on several pillows. The aide was sitting in a chair off to the side, gently massaging her limbs. I did not have to ask why. I knew cancer patients undergoing chemotherapy suffered from neuropathy, a condition where the limbs go numb. Aside from the comfort of physical touch, I imagined it helped with circulation.

  My mother went over and kissed her gently on the cheek, as the women greeted each other joyfully. When she stopped to turn to me, I could see a light begin to radiate from Raina’s eyes and the tears began to flow all around.

  “Stella,” she whispered.

  I stood, unsure of what to do. I approached her slowly, then the aid offered her seat and introduced herself. “Hi, Stella. I’m Rebecca. I usually take care of Raina during the day. It’s nice to meet you, but I am going to let you catch up.”

  She extended her hand. I shook it softly, then sat down. She asked if we would mind her setting up a few things for the next arrival. No one objected, and Raina’s focus was brought back to me once again. She reached her delicate hand out in expectation. I accepted her request, and she brought it to her skeletal chest, pressing hard over her heart. I could feel the organ pulsing with life as she shook, softly weeping. I could not hold back my own tears from forming. I didn’t know this woman, but my presence brought her something so deep even I knew this moment was one that transcended all understanding.

  “Thank you, Jesus,” she whispered.

  Raising my brow curiously, I remained silent. Time seemed to slow down with the three of us together. Even my mother, with her full schedule, was solely focused on capturing the gift. I didn’t want to move, yet my own arm was starting to fall asleep from the unnatural position. I gently slipped away, but held onto her grasp.

  “Has Rebecca worked on your hands yet?” I asked Raina.

  “No, not yet,” she replied softly, while looking into the other room, in Rebecca’s direction.

  “Do you mind if I do it?”

  Raina smiled and shook her head. “I’d like that very much.”

  Smiling brightly, I reached over and pumped a small amount of the lotion Rebecca was using into my palm. I took note it was fragrance free and hypoallergenic, and more memories surfaced on the care of cancer patients. No chemicals, sharp tools for the nails, or hair removal. Everything had to be the most gentle obtainable, because of how the chemotherapy wreck
ed the skin. A patient of my mother’s once suffered a severe sunburn from less than twenty minutes in a car without protection. I massaged small circles over her fingers and up her arm toward her heart.

  “She remembers some things, Sandy?” Raina questioned.

  I shook my head and answered her myself. “No, I don’t. But I spent enough time at the hospital as a volunteer, and they would let me do things like this. I liked how relaxing it was to both me and the patients I visited. I had to complete a few trainings on technique and things to look for, so if I noticed something I could tell a nurse right away. Like this . . .”

  Holding up her arm, I showed where a small bruise had formed from rubbing too hard.

  “I’m sorry, Raina. I thought I was being gentle enough. Did that hurt? Do you want me to stop?”

  Before I could pull my hand away, she reached over and grabbed it with the other. “Don’t you dare, missy!”

  My mother laughed loudly as I tentatively began to work on the other side.

  Raina chuckled herself. “If you knew how much I missed you, you wouldn’t have to question yourself. I know you don’t remember me, but I’ve prayed long and hard for this day. I wouldn’t have wished for the circumstances, but I won’t complain. I never dreamed it would be at the same time as Julian. But God heard me, and here two you are.”

  I smiled and looked back at her. “Why is it so important that Julian be here, too?”

  “Raina, don’t!” My mother’s panicked voice shrilled out and my head snapped.

  The outburst did not move Raina. She reached to pull my hand into hers, and I was instantly able to see where Julian’s intensity came from. Looking straight at me, she spoke to my mother. “Sandy, he is my son, and she needs to know this. It’s going to come out, better she know now.”

  I felt the familiar anxiety creep up and the desire to flee grow feral, but I fought through the fear. Whatever it was, was important enough that Raina was willing to upset the balance. My mother took a deep breath, waiting for the words to cross her best friend’s lips. I watched her chin quiver, and the grip on my palm tightened. I nodded for her to proceed, I couldn’t deny this woman anything. More tears poured down both women’s eyes as they looked at me with uncertainty. The wait was driving me mad, and I was ready to burst.